<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Jacket by terma_archivist</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26536339">The Jacket</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist'>terma_archivist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The X-Files</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Language, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2002-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2002-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:22:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>824</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26536339</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Thoughts from Mulder about Krycek's leather jacket.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alex Krycek/Fox Mulder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>TER/MA</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Jacket</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at <a href="https://fanlore.org/wiki/TER/MA">TER/MA</a> and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/collections/terma/profile">the TER/MA collection profile</a>.<br/>This was inspired by a conversation between Aries and Orithain. They are the coolest and this is for them.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
<br/><b>The Jacket<br/>by Nicole S</b>
</p>
<p><br/> Alex gave me his jacket to wear yesterday. 
</p>
<p>We were at the park, walking around the lake. The shadows were growing long in the late fall afternoon. The trees crimson and gold contrasting with the deep blue sky. 
</p>
<p>I shivered, wearing only a long-sleeved t-shirt. He gave me his jacket—just like that! He said he was warm enough in his sweater. The one made of that forest green wool that made his eyes seem deeper green than they were. A white t-shirt peeked through the v-neck. 
</p>
<p>He took it off then held it out for me and I slipped my arms through the sleeves. He pulled it up over my shoulders, it fit like a glove. It was warm, still holding his body heat. I breathed in the scent, the leather smell that would always remind me of him. This married with his own spicy scent which enveloped me in a warm cloud of Alex. 
</p>
<p>I could feel something hard in an inside pocket, not knowing whether it was a knife, a gun or just a wallet. It made me excited to think of him possibly unarmed and vulnerable without his protective shell. 
</p>
<p>We made our way around the lake and back to the car. Finding the keys in the pocket, I slipped in the driver's side ignoring his protests that I <i>didn't know how to drive a stick</i>. I smugly reminded him that I drove his stick pretty well and once you learned you never forgot. 
</p>
<p>Alex laughed. His laughter is like music. When he really let's go you can tell, his eyes get all scrunched up at the corners and his face lights up. His eyes seem to glow fluorescent green for a second. 
</p>
<p>I peeled out of the parking lot and sped down the road. He told me to slow down but I couldn't. The leather jacket wouldn't let me. It was if his smell and the weight of the jacket had changed me, made me more like...like him. 
</p>
<p>I flew down the road the opposite way of home, not wanting to go back to the city. I turned off the highway to a country road and slowed down a little bit. Fields and farmhouses passed by us. Cows and even a flock of Emu's (which amused Alex completely, but I refused to stop) were our view. The fields gave way to trees and I had to turn the lights on as it was past six and was dark. Finally our road ended at a river. 
</p>
<p>I cut the engine, turned off the lights and sat there, twisting my wrists, rubbing them against the leather worn smooth by Alex. 
</p>
<p>Then he was there, kissing my neck, running his hands through my hair. I kissed him back delighting in the fact that I smelled like him and he smelled like me. My mouth opened to greet his hungry tongue which ran over my lips before entering. 
</p>
<p>Alex's hands moved down to my jeans and undid them, his hand entered my jeans and caressed my cock. His mouth then left my own and he made his way down to replace his hand with his mouth. Those lips firm around me, his tongue licking me. I wove my fingers through his hair and moaned. Alex had me completely. 
</p>
<p>Then his mouth came off me, I let out a whimper at the cold air now assaulting my cock. He took off his jeans and brought his own fingers around to prepare himself. When he was ready he straddled me and lowered himself on my weeping cock. He was so tight, so hot, he always felt this good. 
</p>
<p>He rode me, ensuring to take care of me, screaming my name when he came. The leather of the jacket moaned in time with his thrusts as if it felt what was happening. Then his head was on the shoulder of his own leather jacket. The same shoulder mine had been on many times before. I wonder if he closed his eyes as I did and breathed in the musky scent that was his own. He kissed me on the mouth and told me he loved me. I told him I loved him too. Then it was time to drive back home. 
</p>
<p>I gave him back his jacket when we got home but the scent still remained. We're going out again tomorrow...I should probably remember to take a jacket. 
</p>
<p>THE END 
</p>
<p></p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <a id="notes" name="notes"></a>
</p>
<table>
  <tbody>
    <tr>
      <td>X-Files M/K
<br/>Rating: NC-17 for bad language and m/m sex.
<br/>Archive to Allslash and Archive X. Anywhere else, okay if my name is attached.
<br/>Series/Sequel: This is a stand-alone piece
<br/>Feedback please! [email removed] 
<br/>Spoilers: None whatsoever.
<br/>Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, they belong to that blonde guy.
<br/>Summary: Thoughts from Mulder about Krycek's leather jacket.
<br/>This was inspired by a conversation between Aries and Orithain. They are the coolest and this is for them. 
</td>
    </tr>
  </tbody>
</table>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>